(14) Emily Dickinson – I WENT to thank her

I WENT to thank her,

But she slept;

Her bed a funnelled stone,

With nosegays at the head and foot,

That travellers had thrown,

 

Who went to thank her;

But she slept.

‘T was short to cross the sea

To look upon her like, alive,

But turning back ‘t was slow.

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